


Fixation

by pkmntrainer_alex



Series: Conquests [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Clothes Ripping, Creampie, Doggy Style, F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkmntrainer_alex/pseuds/pkmntrainer_alex
Summary: One of Sanji's female friends catches the eye of his oldest brother.
Relationships: Nami/Vinsmoke Ichiji
Series: Conquests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776859
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Fixation

Ichiji had only caught glimpses of that girl, and knew he had to have her.

He didn’t know her name. It didn’t matter. She hung around his younger brother, one of the only girls in his gaggle of freak misfits. It didn’t make sense to him why someone of her caliber would bother even acknowledging Sanji. The girl was stunning in more or less every category, from her wide brown eyes to her orange hair that shone in the sunlight. Her body was an even greater draw, with her long legs and tits that he knew wouldn’t fit in his hands, if he ever had the opportunity to touch them. And he was planning to.

A few days at a time, he made sure to drop by where he knew Sanji and his friends would be, getting food, catching up and getting drinks. His brother was on full-alert, well-aware Ichiji would never just choose to be in his company. It was only ever for a few minutes at a time, pretending to have been in the area, feeling the need to say hi. All while watching her from behind opaque sunglasses. Imagining her soft skin against his, her legs wrapped around his waist, the way she’d say his name when he made her cum. 

Once or twice, while lost in such thoughts, Ichiji could’ve sworn she looked right at him, giving him a knowing smirk. But only for the briefest second, ever, and she’d be back to chatting with her friends or looking off in the other direction. He would have her. He just needed to figure out the how and when.

As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered plotting. 

Not even a week after he’d first seen her, he returned home and found her waiting in his kitchen. She was sitting on the counter in the dark, one slender leg crossed over the other, her hair in a loose topknot. In a change from the skirts and t-shirts and jeans he’d grown accustomed to seeing her in, she was wearing a dress and high heeled shoes that strapped around her ankles. The dress looked almost as though it had been painted on, clutching at every curve appealingly while barely covering her ass, and a cutout on the chest revealed deep cleavage. Best of all, it was the deepest shade of red. Choosing that dress, in _that_ color, had been purposeful, and Ichiji knew it at first glance.

“How did you get in here?” He tried to conceal his excitement at her presence in a calm, irritated voice. Ichiji had taken off his jacket and shoes at the front door, and had begun unbuttoning his shirt before he’d realized he wasn’t alone. It had been an unreasonably long day, and working with his family wore on him like nothing else. He’d contemplated going for a run, or working out, or something to blow off some steam. But it looked like the perfect outlet had been waiting for him all along. “This building has a doorman. And my front door stays locked.”

Smirking at him, she reached between her tits, slowly jostling them before pulling a small keychain out and twirling it around her finger. “I’m not much of a thief if I can’t steal one measly key. And your doorman wasn’t much of a deterrent.” She sighed sweetly, uncrossing her legs as she gazed ceilingward. “Let me walk right in with no questions asked...so lackluster. For a member of the most powerful family on the coast, you live in a place with pretty crappy security.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Sanji?” Ichiji already knew that key had to have come from his brother. He stepped closer to her, careful to keep the kitchen table between them. She didn’t take her eyes off him, smirk firmly in place as she continued to spin the key. He had gone fully hard the moment he’d drank in the sight of her in that dress, but he didn’t want her to know that just yet. “My brother is so smitten with you, I feel all you would’ve needed to do was ask and he would’ve given you the key. He probably would’ve gone as far as to drive you here.”

The girl threw her head back and laughed. “Who do you think _did_ drive me here? I didn’t tell him why, obviously. I’m pretty sure that would’ve been too much for even Sanji.”

Ichiji suppressed an urge to laugh aloud. Sanji was so devoted and guileless, he almost felt bad for him. “I’m very interested in the ‘why.’” He moved around the table, slipping closer to her but not yet ready to close the gap. If he could get her to admit outright what she’d come here for, it would be even better. “I don’t even know your name and you’re sitting in my apartment.” Alone. In the dark. In that dress.

“Nami.” She set the key down on the countertop beside her, and gave him a teasing smile coupled with a playful fluttering of her eyelashes. “My name’s Nami.”

“Hm. Nami.” Ichiji mulled over the name as he finally stepped within arm’s reach of Nami, who grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close before he could even contemplate what his next move should be. Flashing that impudent smirk again, she plucked off the sunglasses he hadn’t realized he’d still been wearing and tossed them off to the side. 

“Close. Very close.” Nami hooked one leg around his waist, and then the other, locking her feet in the small of his back and jerking him right up against her. Ichiji could feel the stiletto heels of her shoes poking at him. She was seated on the very edge of the counter, pelvis aligned perfectly with his, and he could feel hot, wet heat beginning to soak into his pants. His cock was throbbing and she’d barely touched him. “...But not quite. Don’t worry, I’ll have you saying it right by the time we’re done.”

Ichiji didn’t waste a moment, quickly pressing his mouth over Nami’s after she’d scarcely finished speaking. One hand grasped the back of her head, fingers slipping in her silky hair, and the other reached around her waist. Her mouth was warm and inviting, and he could taste the slightest pinch of citrus as his tongue tangled with hers. Nami seemed just as eager and ravenous as him, pressing her tits against his chest and sucking on his tongue. When they broke apart to catch their breath, Nami dove back in first, unbuttoning his black shirt the rest of the way before pulling it off and onto the floor. At the sight of his well-defined muscles from chest to abdomen, she let out a little giggle of delight, raking her nails over his skin until she reached the waistband of his pants. Nami hooked her fingers over the fabric and yanked him tighter, closer, and held him snugly with her thighs as she shoved her tongue into his mouth, pausing briefly to bite at his lip.

Her dress was riding up over her hips, and he squeezed her exposed ass, his fingers pressing tightly into her skin. She clawed her hands at his shoulders while her legs held her against him as she began grinding against the front of his pants. Nami had worked out quickly and easily where his cock was and she twisted against it, teasing him with the friction from the fabric. From how damp the front of his pants were rapidly becoming, it wasn’t hard to see that she had forgone underwear. Ichiji released her ass and dipped his hand between her legs, barely able to fit from how tightly they were pressed against each other. He didn’t feel any fabric, just slick heat and soft skin.

“No underwear.”  
  
“No need. I know what I came here for.” Nami took her legs from around Ichiji’s waist and set them against the side of the counter before slipping off completely, dropping onto her knees in front of him. She shoved him, causing him to nearly fall backwards over the counter as she grabbed him by his hips, swiftly placing her mouth on the spot she had been grinding and twisting against moments before. Hungrily, she licked and sucked against the fabric, tasting the wetness she’d pressed into him, and he could feel her heavy breaths on his cock. Nami began stroking and rubbing him through his pants with one hand as she teasingly traced her fingers over the button and zipper, planting kisses from base to tip. Her lipstick left perfect imprints of her lips, accentuating the shape of her full bottom lip and perfect cupid’s bow in the white fabric. When she finally - _finally -_ undid the button and began tugging the zipper down, he could see her nails were the same red as the dress, with tiny sparkling flecks catching the light.

It had been obvious to Ichiji that this had been a planned conquest on her part - but he hadn’t considered just how much thought she’d put into it. “You planned this out down to every little detail, didn’t you?”

Nami stopped short of pulling his cock out completely, her warm hand stroking firmly against its length as she stuck her tongue out again. “Slow on the uptake, just like your brother.” To his tremendous relief, she finally slipped him out of his pants, and he could see long, sticky threads already trailing off the head. She didn’t bat an eyelash at its length - something that had made past girlfriends nervous - and he saw her face light up. Looking back up at him once more and maintaining eye contact, she cleaned the stickiness off with a long, lazy lick, and the jolt of sensation had him gripping the countertop. “I’ve been planning this for _quite_ a while.”

“ _How_ long?”

“Mind your own business.” She engulfed the head, easily slipping her mouth more than halfway down the shaft before stopping, her eyes rolling back in her head slightly. The warmth and heat of her mouth were exquisite, and Ichiji held onto the edge of the counter when he felt his knees starting to buckle. Her tongue traced around him like the stripes on a candy cane, and he tightened his hold to keep from falling over. Nami was breathing hard through her nose, hands holding onto his hips again, and bit by bit, she coaxed more of him into her mouth and down her throat, until he could feel her nose tickling at the very base, her rapid breathing making his skin tingle.

“Fuck.” His voice was strained, and labored. Nobody had effected him in such a way before. “Oh, fuck.”

Nami closed her eyes as she paused for a moment, still sliding her tongue all over him in her mouth, her hands going to her hair as she adjusted the sloppy topknot. Once her hair was secured, she began bobbing back and forth, her lips tightly wrapped around his shaft for just the right amount of suction. All Ichiji could do was stare down at her as he held onto his kitchen counter for dear life as she toyed with him, watching her slip him almost fully out of her mouth to lavish his head with sloppy, wet kisses, and then changing pace in an instant and swallowing him fully back down her throat and making him gasp. The entire time she held him in her mouth, her tongue never once stopped moving, tracing shapes, sliding along the ridge of his head and flicking over the tip. At one point, he could’ve sworn he felt her looping out her name along his length, with the tip of her tongue. She looked up at him and winked as he felt a distinct heart shape over where the ‘i’ would have been. 

_“This wasn’t how this was supposed to go,”_ he thought to himself, unable to feel even the slightest bit disappointed. It was a startling change of pace from how his past encounters with women had gone, but not an unpleasant one. _“I was going to call the shots.”_

Ichiji continued to stare at her, mesmerized, watching closely as Nami wiggled her dress fully up around her waist and began rubbing between her legs. Her fingers were making wet noises as she played with herself, and Ichiji struggled to get a better look. Even if he couldn’t see, he could smell her, and his pulse pounded loudly in his ears as he tried to hold it together. The urge to cum all over her cute face was overwhelming - but he didn’t want it as badly as he wanted her against him, beneath him, to feel how tightly she’d squeeze once he’d filled her.

Nami seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and she popped him out of her mouth after only a few moments more. She gave him another wink as she turned over onto all fours, stretching out in an almost catlike manner as she stuck her ass out and gave it a small wiggle. When Ichiji froze in place, brain jamming, she looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you need a formal invitation? Get down here and fuck me.”

Ichiji dropped hard onto his knees, the hard tile of his kitchen floor rigid and unyielding beneath him. He held tight to her as he positioned himself, running his hands over her ass, spanking her hard enough to leave a bright, hot handprint square in the middle of one cheek, drawing a loud groan out of her. On the back of her dress, a concealed zipper caught his eye, and he quickly grabbed for it and yanked it down. It stuck fast at the center of her back, not budging an inch, and Ichiji frustratedly grabbed the dress with one hand and the zipper with the other, splitting the tight fabric and exposing her bare back. Her shoulders were slim and delicate, and he didn’t see any kind of bra straps.

Nami looked back at him again, startled. “Did you just rip my -”

Her inquiry was cut short as Ichiji filled her suddenly, easily sliding all the way in with how warm and wet she already was. She was a snug fit and the suddenness of his penetration caused her to squeeze even tighter, forcing a groan and low swears out of him. Nami let out a high pitched gasp that trailed into a groan, her body shuddering as she lowered her head to the kitchen floor. He reached up her back, panting, and pulled the split halves of her dress from her shoulders, finally freeing the tits he’d eyed for ages. One hand went right to them as he bent over her, the other hand steadying him against the floor. 

“Oh god…” Now it was Nami’s turn to whimper, her voice barely audible and her breathing fast and heavy. “Ohhhhh my god.”

Her nipples were warm to the touch, and hard, and Ichiji noticed her squeezing him in time with how he pinched them. As he’d suspected, her tits were far too big for his hands, spilling out past his finger as he clutched. He craned his head as close to hers as he could. “Are you ready to get what you came here for?” He kept his voice low and calm, not an easy task for how hard it was for him to catch his breath.

“I’ve been getting what I came for the whole time.”

He slid out, pulling his hips back until he was barely inside of her, and slid back in with force. Another cry escaped her lips, and she pressed her face into her forearms. He did it again, and again, the kitchen filling with Nami’s cries and slick noises until he’d achieved a smooth rhythm, stroking smoothly in and out of her as her body shook and shuddered beneath him. 

It was better than he’d fantasized, far better. Everything he did to her was evoking a reaction, causing her to cry out or clamp down tighter on him, and he’d never experienced anything like it. No woman had been this intoxicating, so demanding of all of his senses. And he’d found her through Sanji. _Sanji_ . What was someone like her doing around _him?_

Nami shifted beneath him, and he watched her slip a trembling arm down between her legs. Ichiji let go of her tits and put his hand under hers. She started to look back at him again questioningly, and he bit at what part of her neck he could reach. “I know what you’re trying to do. Use me.”

She didn’t miss a beat, and pushed his hand against her wet, soft skin right above where he continued to pound into her. Her skin was hot and damp, and Nami moved his hand against her as she tried to position him where she needed him. “Almost…” He heard her panting, pushing his fingers against another spot. He could feel the softest skin, and a hard, small bump directly beneath. “There. _There._ God. Please. _Please.”_

She began writhing beneath him in earnest, her gasps and moans escalating sharply. His cock felt like it was in a vice from how tightly she was squeezing down, and Ichiji could feel sweat beginning to pour more heavily down his face. His ears were filled with her sounds and his own pulse, and sharp tingling was beginning to creep up his back. He wasn’t going to last much longer. “Nami.” His voice was frantic, and cracked. “ _Nami_. Fuck.”

Suddenly, he felt Nami’s cunt gripping him tighter than he’d ever felt, and her body went rigid beneath him. Under his fingers, he could feel intense heat, and heavy throbbing from the small bump of stiffness. “Oh my _god_ ,” she cried out, her hips shoving back against him with incredible force, rocking and bucking and forcing him in and out of her. Her voice was high, desperate, and so sweet. “Ichiji, _Ichiji,_ oh my _god.”_

Ichiji couldn’t hold off any longer, not after hearing what he’d imagined over and over since he’d first seen her. Choking out heavy, loud groans, he shoved himself into her as deeply as he could, going lightheaded as he erupted inside her spasming, twitching body. Nami continued to whimper as his orgasm rode itself out, cum rapidly overflowing out of her and dripping onto the kitchen tile. Drained in every sense of the word, Ichiji slid out of Nami and fell sideways, head spinning, onto the floor.

Unsteadily, Nami got right to her feet, legs shaking as she tried to balance in her heels. Ichiji watched her, unable to speak or think straight, pulling the ruined dress the rest of the way off and leaving it beside his head. She picked up his black shirt and slipped into it, rolling the sleeves up above her elbows. The shirt hit directly below her ass, barely permitting a trace of modesty, and he could see cum dripping down the insides of her thighs. Nami took a few steps further from him, gathering the key she’d stolen from Sanji and Ichiji’s discarded sunglasses - which she set on top of her head.

“Consider the shirt payment for ruining my dress.” Still flushed and panting, Nami gave him a sly smile. “And the sunglasses are just a fun bonus.”

Ichiji nodded, not sure what was happening. “Are you leaving?”

“I got what I came here for.” Nami turned to walk away, again spinning the key on a finger. “Are you home at the same time every night?”

“Every night.” 

“Good.”

Struggling, Ichiji pulled himself upright, and slumped against his cabinet doors. He’d certainly never experienced a woman like this. “Do you have to leave so soon? You...don’t want to stay?” Ichiji had never offered any other woman to stay the night. Ever.

Nami paused, closing the key in her palm as she walked back to Ichiji, kneeling down beside him with the sweetest smile on her face. More cum dripped out and pooled beneath her. She kissed him again and he could still taste citrus on her tongue and on her lips. “Oh, I think I’ve had Sanji waiting outside for me long enough.” Nami stood back up and winked, nudging his sunglasses over her eyes. “Maybe I’ll spend the night next time...if there’s a next time.”

As she walked away, humming cheerfully to herself, wearing his shirt and sunglasses, all Ichiji could think was that he needed there to be a next time. And then, he’d call the shots.


End file.
